


Falling like the stars

by justhockey



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Drunk kiss, Falling In Love, Feelings Realization, First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Light Angst, M/M, Soft Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz, Stars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2020-11-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:48:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27703693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justhockey/pseuds/justhockey
Summary: Eddie looks up at the night sky, stars scattered like freckles across the inky blue canvas. He thinks this is the kind of sky you fall in love under, and he turns to Buck with a tightness in his chest.
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Comments: 50
Kudos: 326





	Falling like the stars

**Author's Note:**

> Title from _Falling Like The Stars_ by James Arthur.

Eddie doesn’t drink all that often. He’ll have the odd beer with the team after a rough shift, or maybe a couple with Buck after Christopher has fallen asleep, but it’s rare that he drinks more than a couple, and he almost never gets drunk. 

But quite frankly, it’s been a pretty shitty week. So with Christopher sleeping over at his Abuela’s, it was all too easy to throw back one too many beers (okay, _and_ a couple shots of tequila) with Buck. In fact, it took absolutely zero convincing on Buck’s part - Eddie was ready with the drinks the second Buck walked through the door. 

So they’re sitting on the couch, probably drunker than they should be for a Thursday evening, but hey, they have the day off tomorrow so who really cares. Buck is slouched so far down he’s basically horizontal, with his feet kicked up on the coffee table like he owns the place - which, he basically _does_ live there anyway. Whatever. 

Eddie is sitting right next to him, the left side of his body pressed up against the right side of Buck’s, and it just - it feels like home. And it’s not really new to Eddie, this feeling of comfort whenever Buck is around; he’s just part of the furniture now, so ingrained in their life that it’s weird when he _isn’t_ around. It feels good to sit with him, just drunk enough that everything he says is absolutely hilarious. 

They’re waiting for Buck’s Uber to arrive, and he’s talking about something - a story from when he was travelling in South America, maybe. Eddie isn’t listening to the words, so much as the cadence of Buck’s voice, the way it’s smooth and buttery even when he’s drunk. It’s probably strange that he can tell when Buck is smiling just from the way his voice changes, the way it tilts upwards at the edges in the same way his smile does. 

Eddie has to look at him then, just to check that he’s right. He is, of course. Buck is smiling and gesturing with his hands as he talks, something about a lizard and too-small swim trunks, Eddie is pretty sure. He can’t help but smile too, because it’s impossible not to when Buck is like this, so full of joy and light that it warms up the whole room. That’s probably why Eddie can feel his cheeks flushing. 

But then Buck is laughing loudly and his eyes are crinkling at the sides from how big he’s smiling. Eddie squints, sucks in a breath and turns his head to look away. Because when you’re a kid everyone always tells you not to look directly at the sun or you’ll go blind. And Eddie figures it’s true, because when Buck is smiling like that, Eddie is blind to everything else.

He’s had too much to drink and his thoughts feel loose, like maybe in this moment it’s okay to linger on Buck just a little longer than he should. Like maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if he reached out and touched, just to see how Buck would respond, to see if it would be okay. And he’s tried for a really long time to keep these thoughts hidden, buried in the deepest corners of his mind that he’s too afraid to touch, but this moment just feels different. 

Which is Eddie’s excuse for why he suddenly turns to Buck and presses their mouths together in a kiss that tastes of tequila, and beer, and Buck, and _light._

It takes less than a second for Buck to respond, to curl his hand around the back of Eddie’s head and pull him closer, to open his mouth and allow Eddie to lick into it like there’s nothing more he could possibly want. It drives Eddie insane - the press of Buck’s lips, the feel of his hands, all of it. 

And then Buck’s phone alerts him that his Uber has arrived and they spring apart. 

Eddie knows he’s staring but he can’t stop - Buck’s lips are kissed red and his cheeks are flushed, and Eddie knows he can’t be much different. He can feel the way his chest is heaving, and see that Buck’s is almost a mirror image of his own. 

He feels an overwhelming, sickening feeling of regret. Because, just, _no._ He can’t. He can’t want this and he can’t _do_ this. There are a million and one reasons why it’s a bad idea, why it’s absolutely bound to blow up spectacularly. And he’s instantly terrified that he’s just ruined one of the best things that’s ever happened to him. 

Buck’s phone chimes again, echoing through the deafening silence. 

“Uh,” is the only thing Eddie can manage to say.

“I should go,” Buck says, his voice scratchy and wrecked. 

Eddie nods, stays seated as he watches Buck stand up and shove his phone into his back pocket. It feels wrong to let him leave like this, though. He can’t stand to watch Buck walk out the door without knowing where they stand - what that _meant._

“I, uh,” Eddie stammers as Buck reaches the door. 

He turns back around to look at him, and Eddie feels so on the spot. He swallows thickly, runs a hand through the hair that Buck had been tugging on just moments previously. 

“That was like, just. We’ve had too much to drink, right?” He says. 

He can’t decide how he wants Buck to answer, whether Eddie wants him to agree or disagree. 

“Yeah,” Buck says, suddenly sounding breathless, “Yeah it was just the drink, man.”

Buck shoots a smile at Eddie and he can feel it right down to his toes, like a flash of lightning coursing through his veins. He somehow feels relieved _and_ disappointed, like he wants Buck to leave immediately but he also wants him to stay forever. 

“We’re good, yeah?” Eddie asks, desperate to know that he hasn’t just fucked this beyond repair. 

Buck laughs brightly then reaches forward to give Eddie’s shoulder a gentle shove. 

“Always, Eds,” he promises. “I gotta go.” He nods to the door, and the Uber driver waiting beyond it. 

Eddie nods, “Yeah, see you Saturday.”

And then Buck leaves, and the door closing behind him feels awfully final considering they’ll be seeing each other in less than two days. 

Eddie sits back down on the couch, leaning forward and holding his head in his hands. He can still feel their kiss in his fingertips, can still feel the warmth from Buck’s hand on his waist. He half expects a handprint to be seared into his skin. 

They’re okay. They _are._ Yet Eddie still can’t help but feel like he’s changed something between them now, something that won’t ever be able to quite go back to how it was before.

***

It’s awkward for all of five minutes, the next time they see each other.

When he arrives at the firehouse on Saturday morning, Buck is waiting with Eddie’s coffee like he always is. His cheeks are tinged pink though, and he scratches the back of his neck nervously as he hands it to Eddie. In that moment, it feels like he has a choice: he can let it be awkward and ruin their friendship, or he can push them past it. 

And Eddie can’t lose Buck. He remembers life before him and he never wants to go back to that. But he also can’t let himself feel the way he did that night he kissed him, he can’t open himself and his son up to that kind of hurt again. So that makes his decision for him. 

“Thanks, man,” he says as he takes the coffee. “You wouldn’t believe the morning I’ve had.” 

Eddie sits down next to Buck like he always does, sighs deeply as he takes his first sip of coffee this morning. Buck laughs and elbows him slightly, careful not to knock him so much that he spills his drink. 

“Chris giving you the run around?” Buck asks. 

He’s smiling warmly, looking at Eddie like all he wants to do right now is hear about his morning. Buck has an amazing way of looking at you like you’re the only person on earth who matters, like you’re the single most important thing to ever exist. It’s almost overwhelming, the way he’s able to focus all of his attention on one person. It makes Eddie feel seen and heard in a way that he never has before. 

It’s just - a lot. It makes Eddie feel too many things that he’s absolutely refusing to let himself feel right now, or ever again, for that matter. So he rolls his eyes and tilts his head back to rest it on the couch. 

“You have no idea, you should have _heard_ what he said to me this morning, I couldn’t believe it,” Eddie says. 

And then it’s normal again. 

Eddie tells Buck, and then Chim and Hen once they arrive, all about his morning with Christopher. Chimney explains that Maddie was up all night because the baby wouldn’t stop kicking, and Buck absolutely lights up at the mention of it. They talk and they laugh, and then the alarm sounds and they head to work. 

It’s normal. They’re moving on. 

Except for the fact that Eddie doesn’t know _how_ to. 

Because he’d spent so long keeping his feelings for Buck folded neatly in a pile and shoved right to the back of his metaphorical closet, but now he’s opened the door and they all keep falling out. 

So Eddie finds himself watching Buck in a way that he’s never let himself before, and the worst part is Buck is always looking right back, every single time. It’s like he’s waiting for Eddie to say something, to get his shit together and mention it, or make a move, or just, _something._

Eddie doesn’t, though. Can’t. Even though his heart is in his mouth during that call where Buck is trapped inside a house when part of the roof collapses. Even when Buck’s radio stops working during an apartment fire and Eddie has no idea where he is for almost ten minutes - has pins and needles in his hands the whole way back to the station and can’t stop glancing at Buck to make sure he’s okay. 

It feels like it’s consuming Eddie, and it’s almost unfair how Buck seems to go on like nothing has changed. Although, he thinks Buck probably came to terms with this long before Eddie even let himself consider it, so. He kind of just crosses his fingers and hopes that’ll it go away somehow, at some point. 

(He’s not going to hold his breath.)

***

The week passes by in a blur of fire, smoke, and poor decisions. By the time Friday evening rolls around, all Eddie wants to do is have dinner with Chris and Buck, then go to sleep knowing he’s not going to be woken up by a blaring alarm.

So they have tacos and watch movies until Chris passes out, sprawled out over Buck’s lap. It does something to Eddie’s heart, watching Buck carry his son to bed and tuck him in, brushing his hair back to press a kiss to his forehead. It makes his insides feel all twisty and nervous, and he definitely needs a drink. 

He and Buck head out to the back yard with beer in their hands, and sit side by side on the bench as the light starts to fade. They watch the sun setting over the horizon, the orange bleeding into pink, into purple, casting a surreal glow over everything the light touches. 

Time passes differently with Buck. It feels like they’re only outside for a few short minutes, but then Eddie glances around and they’re already cloaked in darkness. Their conversation flows so easily, and they feel so comfortable with each other, that time just doesn’t seem to exist at all when they’re together. 

Eddie looks up at the night sky, stars scattered like freckles across the inky blue canvas. He thinks this is the kind of sky you fall in love under, and he turns to Buck with a tightness in his chest. 

Buck is watching the sky too, eyes wide and in awe, and Eddie thinks he’d give almost anything to have Buck turn those adoring eyes on him. And then Buck does look at him, the ghosts of the stars still reflecting in his irises. He smiles at Eddie, soft and easy, and so familiar that it makes his chest ache - makes him feel like he’s been cracked open and hollowed out, his heart laid bare for Buck to see. 

“It’s amazing,” Buck says, his eyes never leaving Eddie’s. 

“Yeah,” Eddie agrees. “Yeah it is.”

It’s quiet again for a while, peaceful in a way that they rarely get to experience. Between the firehouse and Christopher, they hardly ever get a moment to just breathe, to just _be._ But it’s nice, sitting under the night sky with the late autumn air cool on their skin. 

Eddie doesn’t know what makes him do it, doesn’t know if it’s the beer he’s put away, or the unearthly atmosphere surrounding them. But he reaches a hand out across the space between them, let’s his finger trace a line over the back of Buck’s hand. 

He doesn’t look at him, too scared to see his reaction even though Eddie can feel him watching. Buck doesn’t say anything though, just uncurls his hand and turns it palm up, an invitation, perhaps. Eddie isn’t sure if he can go here, if he can travel down this path, but he can’t help the way his heart rate accelerates in his chest. 

The moment feels precarious, like they’re on the very edge of something and whatever Eddie does next, however he handles this, will determine everything from here on out. It feels too big, too special for Eddie to hold in his hands. 

It feels too late to turn back now, though. He knows it’s not, not with Buck, who would pretend none of this happened if that’s what Eddie wanted - he’s done it before. But it’s not what he wants - at least, he doesn’t _think_ he does. Because he’s been wanting Buck for what feels like forever, has been pushing it down for almost as long. 

And Eddie is tired. He’s exhausted down to his bones from fighting something he doesn’t need to fight, not when Buck is here, hand open and waiting. 

Eddie touches just their fingertips together, presses down on each one in turn, just testing the waters to see if Buck pushes back. He doesn’t. He just lets Eddie take control. So when Eddie ever so slowly laces their fingers together, Buck goes with it, even let’s his thumb swipe gently over the back of Eddie’s hand, just once. 

His breath catches in his throat, and it feels kind of dumb really. He’s not a kid anymore, it’s not the first time he’s ever held the hand of a crush, but it feels like it. Because Buck makes him feel like he’s doing everything for the first time, including holding hands. Including falling in love. 

It wasn’t like this with Shannon. With her it was a whirlwind, too serious, far, _far_ too fast. It was loud and intense, and he loved her, but it was never going to work out in the long run. 

It’s different with Buck. It’s quiet, and it’s still intense but in a different way, a more gentle kind of heat - like being kissed by flames instead of engulfed in them. 

He thinks this is what love looks like, though; sitting in his back yard late at night, just this side of cold with their hands tangled together. It looks like Buck always having Eddie’s coffee ready for when he gets to the station, and Eddie sitting a little closer to Buck after a rough call - something steady for him to lean on. It’s early mornings getting Christopher to school, and driving home together after late shifts. 

It’s all of it. It’s everything that he has with Buck. 

He takes a breath. 

“What would you do if I kissed you again?” Eddie asks. 

His voice feels so loud in the quiet of the night, that he almost wants to flinch at it. Buck doesn’t though. Buck turns his head to look at him, a serene expression on his face as he squeezes Eddie’s hand. 

“I’d kiss you back,” he says without any hesitation. Then, more cautiously, “If you meant it.”

And that’s it, really. Eddie knows where Buck stands - although he thinks he’s known that for a while, really - so it’s all down to him. 

He looks back up at the sky, at the stars blinking back at him from light years away. The vastness of it makes Eddie feel so small, but not insignificant, though - he thinks it’s impossible to feel insignificant when you’re holding Evan Buckley’s hand. 

It’s just unfathomable, how infinite the universe is, how it stretches on and on in every direction, how there’s more out there than humans will ever know about. In all of that, it feels like something close to a miracle that every single choice Eddie has ever made has led him here, to this moment, to _Buck._

It feels too big to ignore, too important to let his fears hold him back any longer. Because Buck is here with him and he isn’t going anywhere, of that Eddie is certain. 

In the darkness a star falls, blazing light across the endless sky. It feels like a message, or a sign, or maybe it’s nothing at all, but Eddie kisses Buck anyway. Because he can. Because he wants to. And Buck kisses back. 

“I love you,” Eddie whispers against Buck’s lips. 

And it should be too fast, but it isn’t, not for them. Not when Eddie’s soul has loved Buck’s maybe since the start of the universe, or maybe since a hot summer day in a firehouse in LA. Either way, it’s true all the same. 

“I love you,” Buck whispers back. 

Then they’re kissing again, like they simply can’t get enough of each other now that this is something they get to have. 

It feels like probably the wrong time, but Eddie thinks back to something he learned once, about how all the elements in the human body are made in a star. 

He thinks it’s fitting. Kissing Buck tastes like stardust.

**Author's Note:**

> I miss these idiots so here u go


End file.
